A Sweet Interlude
by s82
Summary: A moment beneath the trees of Lothlorien between Aragorn and Legolas during the War of the Ring.


Disclaimer: _The characters of Legolas and Aragorn are not mine, but belong to JRR Tolkien. No money is being made, no permission is granted, and I only try very hard not to offend._

Rating: _PG_

Notes: _I am currently trapped behind a very solid wall of writer's block on about the dozen or so stories I have yet to finish. Because of this frustration, this piece was born. I think most of the reasoning for it comes because of how many times I roll my eyes at some of the romances out there. Granted, I have read some very nicely done romances (even some slashes have been handled well) but I still am unable to fully accept them. *shrug* I'm stubborn and thus this piece. Hope you enjoy and it at least makes you smile._

~*~

A SWEET INTERLUDE

By: Susie

~*~

The Quest was on the edge of a knife, Galadriel had said, and had not been wrong in her assessment. Everything was so terribly wrong. Gandalf, their leader, their _friend_, had fallen and with him so had whatever small particle of hope all possessed. The already perilous journey was failing rapidly and Aragorn, the newly appointed leader, was trying his best to keep them from falling into darkness. However, even the son of Arathorn felt his spirit sinking rapidly and found his thoughts turning to defeat even while they were being housed in fair Lothlórien.

"You seem weary." A musical voice announced to the Ranger's left and he did not need to turn his head to know who was standing amongst the trees.

"I am, Legolas." A sigh escaped Aragorn's lips that was a telling sign of his exhaustion of body and soul. "My heart and soul are so very weary."

The prince of Mirkwood removed himself from the back of the tree he was lounging against and moved to his long-time friend. "To say nothing of your body, I am certain." A smiled graced the pale face.

The future King chuckled lightly. "I am but a mortal and fear that my body has been taxed near its limits as of late."

The elf nodded his head. "You are a mortal and yet seem to push yourself as if you are an elf." An elegant hand reached out to the Ranger's shoulder and tightened slightly feeling the tension that was all too present. "You are no elf, my friend, and your body is very upset with you."

Against Aragorn laughed louder this time. "If this is it being upset, I would hate to know what full-fledge fury would feel like." The elf's hand on his shoulder gently pushed down and the man took the hint, sitting on the ground before the prince.

"As would I. Although in the coming days we may just see." Strong, yet gentle hands began to work their way across the Ranger's shoulders, kneading the sore and tight muscles with expertise. The son of Arathorn released a soft groan as he felt his muscles loosen ever so slightly. The hands upon his shoulders moved downward to his mid-back and still worked their magic. Across his spine and to his lower back, all the while working out the tenseness with deft skill.

"Your hands are wondrous." Aragorn whispered in a sigh as Legolas' skilled appendages worked their way back up. 

"So I have heard." The elf replied aloofly, but with a smile upon his face that, although he did not see, Aragorn knew was present.

It was while the Ranger was lost in this sensation beneath Legolas' wondrous hands that his mind wandered. He gently replaced the hands on his back with smaller ones, slightly softer in their ministrations, but just as thorough. The blond elf seated behind him also took on new form. It was no longer a prince of Mirkwood but a lady of Imladris. Before his mind warned to him that this images were created, Aragorn turned his body to face the elf behind him.

"Arwen," he breathed with no little desire.

Before the prince had a chance to say a single word, Aragorn snaked his arm around the elf's body. 

The future King fell atop the startled prince causing both to lay against the soft Lorien ground, although Legolas' back was slightly arched due to the hand beneath his lower back. It caused the two bodies to be touching far more immediately than the prince liked. 

The son of Thranduil cocked an eyebrow at Aragorn, "I am not Ar-" Alas, the elf could say no more for the Ranger's lips upon his own quell all speaking ability. Legolas' eyes widened marginally as he felt the future King attempt and, much to his chagrin, succeed in deepening the kiss. Finally, after an attempt at sliding out from beneath the man failed, the prince, with nothing short of fury, shoved Aragorn off of him with great force.

The result was the Ranger, on his back, staring up at the blond elf who was looking down at him. A long finger was pointed at Aragorn accusingly.

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked, his voice tight with barely control anger.

The future King only blinked. _What was _I _doing? _He was being massaged by Legolas and then suddenly Arwen was massaging him in the prince's place. _So_, Aragorn wondered, _where was Arwen now? _If the King had truly thought this question through he would have realized the sheer absurdity at the idea that the Evenstar had taken Legolas' place. However, in some small part of his brain, he knew that, if Arwen had not been behind him than that meant he had _kissed_ his friend. It was because this very thought caused Aragorn to shiver, that he made his eyes dart from left to right looking for the elusive elf-maiden. She was no where to be found and so, the Ranger looked back to Legolas' intense gaze.

"Where did Arwen go?" The Ranger's more logical part of his brain was sending warning signals to the one that had attempted to create Arwen.

The prince dropped his hand at once and raised both his brows. "Arwen?"

The son of Arathorn nodded. "Yes. She was massaging me in your steed." Once again the man's eyes began to move around the clearing wondering why his beloved took off and allowed the elf before him to attack him so. The warnings were flashing more rapidly in his head, but the Ranger refused to believe that he had made such a move on his friend.

The prince shook his head. "She is not here, Estel. Nor was she ever."

The future King stopped his searching and looked back to the Mirkwood elf. "But, I…" 

"That was me you, uh, kissed." The prince of Mirkwood admitted with a grimace.

The pair, man and elf, looked at one another for a moment. Their eyes regarded one another and then a highly uncomfortable silence ensued in the clearing. The Ranger finally allowed his mind to understand that, _no_, _Arwen had never been here_. And then, in a flash of movement, Aragorn was on all four spitting on the Lothlórien floor in a very unbecoming manner.

"By the Valar!" He exclaimed in-between spittle. "I kissed…ugh."

Legolas, for his part, watched all this silently with his arms crossed. Finally, after Aragorn had begun to rack his tongue across his palm making choking sounds, the prince sighed.

"Truly, I think you may be over-reacting," he said with a roll of his eyes. The future King only looked up to the blond warrior.

The two locked eyes again and both then shudder as the mental imagery of what had occurred passed through their minds. Aragorn went back to his spitting on Galadriel's earth.

Finally, the elf spoke. "I think this is best left between us."

Aragorn nodded. "Yes. No one need to know of this." He paused for a moment. "Ever."

Without a further word, Legolas turned leaving the Ranger alone on the bed of Lorien. The future King only watched the elf retreat and then looked around. Finally, looking up the tree, he spoke.

"Galadriel, could you please no inform your granddaughter of what has just occurred?" His voice was meek and almost pathetic.

The Queen of Lothlórien had no intention of telling Arwen of what had just occurred, but was unable to given a proper response to the future King for she was currently draped over her mirror laughing uncontrollably. Celeborn walked by to see his wife thus and, with only a raised eyebrow, continued walking knowing that it was best he did not know.

__

The end


End file.
